I think about it.
Reallythink.
Not the automatic deflection, not the rehearsed answer designed to make people stop worrying. An actual, honest assessment of where my head is at.
"I don't know," I say finally. "It's weird. Being here. Being... cared about. Even if this is fake and temporary."
"It's not fake," Sage says immediately.
"Isn't it?" I look at him—at all of them—trying to read the truth in their expressions. "We're doing this to draw out Kai's father. To end a threat. It's a strategy. An alliance. Not a real pack bond."
"Sage bonded you for real," Blaze points out. "That's not fake. That's biology."
"Biology and feelings are different things."
"Are they?" Jett's quiet voice cuts through. "Seems to me like biology just speeds up what was already happening."
I don't have a response to that.
So I keep talking instead.
"The volleyball thing," I say, latching onto something concrete. "That's what's confusing me. You all defended me. In public. Without hesitation. Like it was instinct."
"It was instinct," Sage confirms.
"Butwhy?" I lean forward, needing to understand. "You've known me for two days. Face to face, I mean. Before that, I was just words on paper. Why would you risk anything for me? Why would you care if some asshole threw a ball at my face?"
"Because you're ours," Kai says.
The words are simple.
Final.
No elaboration, no explanation, just the flat statement of fact from the man who should, by all rights, hate me most.
"I'm surprised everyone's falling for it," I admit, sitting back. "The whole pack dynamic. Like we actually have chemistry enough for them to believe it's real."
"Do we not?" Blaze asks, eyebrow raised.
"That's the confusing part." I run my fingers through my hair, tugging at the strands in a gesture that's become habit. "Maybe I'm trying to act like it's not real. Like this is all just pretend, just strategy, just a means to an end that will dissolve the moment it's no longer useful."
One-two-three-four.
My fingers twist in my hair.
One-two-three-four.
"But I like your dynamic," I continue, the words spilling out before I can stop them. "It's odd. Different. I don't know everything about you—I don't knowanything, really, beyondsurface observations—but there's a balance here. A weird, fucked-up balance that shouldn't work but somehow does."
Silence.
The kind that feels thoughtful instead of uncomfortable.
Then Sage nods.
"Okay. You shared. Our turn." He sets down his fork, pushing his plate aside like he needs to give this his full attention. "I'll go first, since I'm the one who pulled you into this mess."
He takes a breath.
